Ventures
by Drakulya
Summary: A collection of drabbles about our favorite sky pirate and his band of merry men and women. May or may not contain copious amounts of Balthier/Vaan.
1. 1 Beginnings

**1. Beginnings**

Balthier thought it had probably all started when Reddas made that off-hand apprentice remark at Draklor.

Evidently Vaan must have been listening, because when Balthier returned to the others he'd found the desert rat staring expectantly at him as if waiting for him to give orders. It was disconcerting to say the least, but the sky pirate didn't think anything of it at first. Vaan was quite prone to 'stupid' moments, and he himself _was_ the leading man after all, so it was only natural that he would look up to him.

He started to take a little more notice when Vaan began shadowing him wherever he went, most noticeably when he and Fran were doing maintenance on the _Strahl_. He wasn't sure if the boy was trying to be subtle, but nevertheless Fran would always twitch her ears in warning whenever she heard him. Balthier would turn at that cue to catch Vaan, without fail, watching in wonder as the viera and hume wielded wrenches and screwdrivers as skilfully as they did bows and guns.

"I think he is trying to prove something to you," commented Fran one morning as they made their way to the airship storage, Vaan conspicuously following them for the fifth time.

Balthier snorted inelegantly. "Whatever it is, I daresay I'm mystified."

The viera didn't look convinced in the least, but made no further mention of the matter.

Although he couldn't say he completely disliked the rapt attention paid to him by the blonde boy, Balthier eventually took Vaan aside for a little chat. It was partly for Vaan's own good, too, since the pirate was starting to sense that if he continued skulking around while they worked, Fran would soon cave in and give him a good roundhouse kick to the face.

"Look," Balthier began in a consoling voice. "I understand that perhaps Reddas planted some Occuria-knows-what ideas in that head of yours, but I don't need an apprentice."

Vaan pouted childishly. "Yes, you do. And I'd be perfect for the job."

_He won't take 'no' for an answer, will he? _The brunette folded his arms. "Enlighten me why."

"Well... uh..."

Five minutes of umming and ahhing later, Balthier concluded that Vaan had no valid reason, even though the boy himself steadfastly refused to acknowledge this simple fact. Well, he certainly couldn't deny that Vaan was stubborn. And sometimes, a stubborn sky pirate made a good sky pirate.

Sometimes.

Balthier decided to humor him. "If you give me an adequate reason, I might just change my mind about that apprenticeship," he said, and left Vaan deep in thought, blonde brows furrowed ever-so-slightly.

It was several more days before Vaan finally came up with an answer. He searched low and wide and at last found Balthier in the Sandsea tavern, sipping a coffee and reading the local papers. The boy pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down eagerly, managing to divert the sky pirate's attention away from the front page article for a moment.

"I've got it," he said breathlessly.

Balthier merely sipped his beverage. "I figured as much."

"You know how you keep talking about being the leading man?" said Vaan, looking triumphant. "Well, every main character has to have a sidekick, so in your case that would have to be _me_."

For once, Balthier thought as he tried not to choke on his drink, it was Vaan's perspicacity that surprised him. Somehow the blonde had realized that he would get furthest by appealing to his potential master's vain side, and lo and behold, he was proving to be right. Balthier mentally tasted the notion as he fixed his eyes on Vaan. His... sidekick. It sounded good even in his own head.

"Well," he said decisively. Vaan's face was infinitely hopeful as he leaned closer in anticipation. "I've heard more ridiculous reasons."

"Does that mean I'm in?" asked the boy, the corner of his lips lifting.

Balthier shut his papers and stood, pushing his chair back. "The airship storage, tomorrow morning at precisely 7am," he announced, studiously ignoring Vaan's too-loud cheers and the other tavern-goers' curious gazes. "And I'd recommend you be on time lest I revoke your new status."

"I'll be there!" Vaan yelled as the pirate left the tavern, shaking his head at what he'd brought upon himself.


	2. 17 Brown

**17. Brown**

"_Where are they?_"

Balthier's indignant half-shout broke the peace of the early morning, and Fran, who was carrying in breakfast on a platter, wrinkled her nose distastefully at the noise.

"Keep your voice down," she scolded from beyond the doorway, and entered to find a half-dressed sky pirate turning the room upside down and inside out, evidently searching for something. His usually fastidiously slicked back hair was sticking up all over the place and he had donned only his white shirt and briefs. Even though they had been partners for years, she had seen him in such a state of undress merely a handful of times. "What is it you have mislaid, Balthier?"

He spun around and looked at her almost accusingly. "My- my _pants_!" he choked out, then seemed to realize his own agitation, and visibly composed himself. "My pants," he repeated, fidgeting with his cuffs. "They're nowhere to be found."

"That much I gathered," the viera said, putting down the tray. She looked around the room, sniffing the air. "I cannot distinguish it here. The entire room reeks of your scent."

"I _don't_ reek," Balthier muttered, and made another half-hearted attempt at lifting the bedcovers up as if his trousers would magically appear under them. "My spare garments are in the _Strahl_, and she's parked halfway across the city." He put his hands on his hips and, with a sigh, looked up at the ceiling in resignation. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if the gods made it their mission to toy with him in pointless, obscure ways.

Fran clip-clopped to the doorway and, with a hand on the frame, looked back at him with a wry gleam in her eye. "Worry not. I won't let you soil our image as noble sky pirates by parading around in your undergarments." She gestured at the tray she brought in. "Sit down, and eat. I shan't be long."

The brunette obeyed and made himself comfortable in the nearby armchair, picking up a piece of toast and the mug of coffee. He had grown awfully attached to that pair of brown leather pants, and for once he'd found ones that looked damn good with those clunky belted pouches of his. They had been tailor-made; would he ever find a new pair that would serve him as well as they had?

He sipped the hot beverage moodily, and grimaced. Well, he certainly wouldn't be coming here again for the coffee.

Quarter of an hour later, the door opened once again. Balthier looked up expectantly and was not altogether pleased when he spotted a grinning blonde head peering at him. Of all the people to see him in this spectacle. The gods certainly did love to play.

"What's _he_ doing here?" he barked as Fran pushed Vaan into the room and shut the door behind her.

Fran gave him a funny look. "He says he knows where you left your pants."

Balthier's eyes widened as Vaan tossed the item of clothing that he had been holding behind his back, then narrowed. "Why did _you_ have them?"

Vaan let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't you remember? You left them in my room last night."


	3. 22 Enemies

**22. Enemies**

It was odd, thought Ashe, that the one person competing with her in vying for Balthier's attention wasn't a princess or noblewoman like herself, but a mere street urchin.

Whenever she spoke to him within Penelo's vicinity, she would undoubtedly catch the girl glaring at her.

It boosted her ego to see Penelo regarding her so seriously as a rival.

Why would Balthier, who was born from wealth himself, choose a street kid instead of herself?

Nevertheless deep down she knew that the competition was fair, and neither of them had an advantage over the other, blue blood or no.


	4. 28 Children

**28. Children**

Cid twiddled the knob on the switch again, and pushed the green button. The metal contraption shuddered promisingly once - but the huge red door outside the office remained as shut as ever. The scientist swore under his breath and gave the machine a vicious kick.

He had been trying to fix the damned gate switch all morning, and there was no sign of him making any progress. _Occuria-damn those foolish soldiers that run amok, mishandling my machines! _And now it was broken. Cid opened up the panel on the side covering the programming wires, and peered inside. Red to green, blue to yellow. It should, theoretically, be working perfectly. So why wasn't it?

So absorbed in his work was he that he barely heard light footsteps approaching and stopping beside him.

"Father," said nine-year-old Ffamran. "Would you care for refreshments?"

"A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you," his father answered absently.

The boy nodded and started to leave, then paused at the door, turning his head. "By the way," he said casually. "The red wire connects with the blue, and the green with yellow. You may have forgotten, Father, but the switches were installed with the Sagittarius system a week ago."

Cid stared at the machine as realization slowly dawned on him, and then turned back to the doorway.

Ffamran had already left.


	5. 33 Too Much

**33. Too Much**

It was a hot day in the floating city of Bhujerba, and the group had nothing to do. Unused to being completely free of obligations, the three women decided to go around looking for new monster hunting bills, while Basch was left with the menial task of doing their grocery shopping for tonight. Balthier had escaped the chore himself by saying he would give Vaan another airship flying lesson later, but to be honest he couldn't think of anything he'd want to do less at this point in time.

Soon everyone else had departed, and he and Vaan were left to lounge around in the inn suite they and Basch shared. "Are you really going to teach me flying in this heat?" Vaan asked wearily, fanning himself and blowing his fringe out of his eyes.

Balthier looked up from the newspaper he was reading on the bed. "I suppose you won't mind if I don't."

"Not at all," the blonde replied, looking relieved, and continued dozing off on his chair.

A few moments of companiable silence later, Balthier shut his paper. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he stood and threw the windows wide open before taking off his vest and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

Vaan opened his eyes half-mast. "It's really stuffy in here..."

"Right. Which is precisely why I just opened the window more," Balthier answered from his new perch on the windowsill, eyes back on his paper.

Vaan stretched, then proceeded to remove his own top and kick off his heavy metal pants and boots. Clad now in only a pair of boxers, he moved closer to the window in hopes of catching a non-existant breeze. He stuck his head out and watched the people milling about on the streets several storeys down below. How could they possibly bear to shout at each other and barter in this heat? Then again, he supposed Bhujerbans were used to being this much closer to the sun.

He glanced at the brunette beside him and a grin slowly made its way onto his face. "Aren't you hot?" he asked slyly.

Balthier looked up, his mouth quirking slightly. "Perhaps, but I don't have the audacity to take it all off like you."

"Come on. Let yourself go once in a while." Vaan folded his arms and leaned against the wall with a pout.

The sky pirate chuckled. "I prefer to retain my self-dignity, thank you very much. But seeing as this sun doesn't look like it's about to let up..." He looked outside and shielded his eyes with one hand. "Maybe I'll make an exception this once."

Vaan nodded sagely in response, looking pleased with himself.

Balthier was well aware of the boy watching as he leisurely unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, letting it join his vest on the back of the nearby armchair. He was about to pick up his newspaper for the third time when Vaan moved like a cat and planted himself face to face with him. The brunette was only vaguely surprised when he felt hands fumbling to undo the buttons of his pants.

"I still think you're wearing too much," Vaan smirked.


	6. 42 Triangle

**42. Triangle**

She wondered when these complex feelings began.

He had always been like a brother to her. A best friend. Someone who was there for her, who always had her back. Sure, he was immature, even for their age, but he wouldn't let her down, and made sure she knew it.

And then he met the sky pirates. A dashing duo, they were. Sophisticated, charming, beautiful. Nothing like the two of them, the street urchins. She thought he would never mingle with them again, with such gaping differences, but then she got herself kidnapped and it all snowballed from there.

She glued herself to him on their journey with the pirates, princess and the so-called traitor, hoping they would naturally stick together like always. For a while she was content, and they went on being close as ever. But soon she began to notice how his attention would sometimes wander when they weren't alone. She was a woman, after all; she knew these things.

It was subtle at first. A flick of the eyes, or a momentary blank expression, indicating he wasn't listening. Later on he began to actively seek the brunette man's attention, and she was left wondering how _he_ could be so much more interesting than herself. Oh sure, he had looks and charm and an airship on his side, but she was his best friend. So why couldn't she help feeling so insecure and jealous?


	7. 43 Square

**43. Square**

Balthier had always thought he liked circles far better than squares. Circles and their curves, arcs, and seamless joins - there really was nothing more pleasing to a male eye. Fran's backside was a good example. He didn't like to be thought of as lecherous, but when she walked like that it was difficult to look at anything else. Balthier was certain that any male that had ever had the good fortune of walking behind her would agree with him heartily.

It was obvious, then, that when Balthier found himself noticing _squares_ instead, he was most surprised. Squares on a particular boy. Whenever Vaan was within his view, Balthier would find his eyes drifting towards that fine-featured face and lean, tanned shoulders. Balthier wasn't close-minded by any means, but even _he_ felt a little ashamed of himself for checking out an underaged kid.

Like most things, this did not escape his partner's notice. A week after his wandering eye began Fran started to throw him dirty looks whenever she caught him at it. "He is but a _boy_, Balthier," she remarked one day after Vaan walked past while they were tuning up the _Strahl_.

"I know, I know," he sighed despondently in response, and went back to polishing her hull.

Fran was merciful enough to not pursue the matter any further after that. And really, what could there be to discuss? He'd become a pedophile overnight - it was as simple as that. She probably understood, though. The gap between her and his ages spanned decades, and only an innocent fool would think that nothing beyond platonic ever happened between them.

And platonicity was the last thing on his mind right now. Usually Balthier was proud of his control over his mind and matters, but for some reason Vaan seemed intent on making it difficult for him. He could count no fewer than half a dozen occasions each day on their journey where the boy would barge into his personal space, or lounge about in a manner that showed off his unclothed midriff, or drink from his water pouch in a way that was so seductive to Balthier's eyes that it should be illegalized.

Funnily enough, nobody else seemed to notice these things. Nobody found it odd that the sky pirate's left eye would twitch whenever Vaan leaned over his shoulder; or that whenever Vaan started to lounge around, Balthier was the only one who didn't ever think to tell him to get back to work; or that he never found Vaan's drinking style vulgar or messy and commented disgustedly about it (in fact, he rather liked it that way - Vaan was not a lady, after all) .

When he confronted Fran about it again later, he accidentally let it slip. "What does he think of me?"

"Other than idolization? It is difficult to say," she replied.

He scowled deeply.

"Stop acting like a lovestruck fool," Fran added as she left him alone. "You know it is not."

Balthier stared thoughtfully at her receding behind. Those curves that had once attracted him so much were now simply that - curves, and nothing more.

_But what if it is?_


	8. 45 Moon

**45. Moon**

Balthier always felt Fran's outfit led it to appear that she was constantly mooning everyone. Not that anyone minded, he was sure. Nevertheless, he could never help but feel irritated whenever passersby stopped and gawked, which unfortunately was a very common occurrence.

When he casually brought it up one day, he quickly wished he hadn't. "I had not known you were such a boy still," Fran had smirked and sashayed off, leaving Balthier with nothing but a dent in his ego.

Eventually, Balthier stumbled upon the revelation that there was really only one thing he could do - enjoy it.


	9. 56 Breakfast

**56. Breakfast**

Balthier was fussy about his breakfast.

It came with growing up in a well-to-do household. He was accustomed to servants heeding his every wish, no matter how absurd. But he wasn't unreasonable. No, he was merely cranky, tired and hungry when he woke up, and expected his first meal of the day to snap him pleasantly out of his morning glaze.

And like they always said, old habits die hard. Even over half a decade after his escape, Balthier's morning routine was as precise as ever.

Which was why, as they strolled from Balthier's current residence to his usual cafe, he didn't appreciate Vaan attempting to convince him to try the fish sticks from the dingy stall they passed, or the sickeningly-sweet-looking buns from the corner bakery whose owner greeted the boy with enthusiasm. What he wanted was caffeine, and plenty of it. With, perhaps, a buttered jam croissant as a side dish.

In fact he wasn't even sure why the street urchin was with him. Admittedly he _could_ use some company, with Fran gone to Eruyt after hearing that Mjrn had made a second venture into the outside world, but Vaan was proving to be more annoying than companiable. He wondered why he had ever let the boy become his apprentice. What seemed like a good idea back then did not seem nearly so appealing now. Could someone so immature really handle the _Strahl_?

They eventually ended up at Balthier's original destination, albeit nearly an hour later than he'd scheduled. He pushed past the double doors, which jingled to announce his presence, and headed straight for the table in the corner. Vaan followed closely behind, glancing around the unfamiliar interior with the wariness of a wild dog. The sky pirate resisted the urge to chuckle.

"This isn't your usual place," the blonde mused as they sat down.

Balthier smirked. "And I suppose you know that better than I do."

"I'm just saying that I haven't seen you come here before," Vaan said with a hint of a pout.

"The Sandsea is a tavern. It doesn't serve well as a regular breakfast spot," Balthier pointed out, and proceeded to summon a waitress.

Ten minute later, the same girl set down a piping hot mug of coffee and two croissants on the table between the two young men, and was rewarded with a smile from both. Blushing madly, she stuttered a barely audible 'please enjoy' and hurried away to the next table.

"Cute girl," Balthier commented as he pushed one croissant towards Vaan. "Now, have that and be quiet."

"Wow, thanks," Vaan said with a grin, and tucked in.

Satisfied that the boy was occupied, Balthier picked up a newspaper from the counter and shook it open, preparing for some quiet reading time. He had barely gotten halfway through the front page article when he realized that he was no longer hearing chewing sounds. He lowered the newspaper and saw, with some measure of amazement, that Vaan had already finished his snack.

"That was quick," he commented.

Vaan beamed at him. "It tasted good."

"Evidently so," Balthier muttered half to himself.

"So where did Fran go? I haven't seen her with you lately."

"She's visiting family."

"I thought she decided not to go back to the woods. What happened?"

"It was Mjrn."

"Eh? Mjrn got into trouble again?" Vaan made a face. "I hope she's OK."

"She's fine."

The blonde paused for a minute, then grinned widely. "So... you must be lonely without Fran around. No wonder you bribed me to stay here."

Balthier looked up with raised eyebrows. "I did not _bribe_ you. And you can leave whenever you please." As if to prove how little he cared for company, he drank his coffee rather forcefully and returned immediately to his reading.

"Oh, admit it! You can't stand being alone," Vaan said with conviction. "And I knew you and Fran had something going on. That's why you're so moody, isn't it? Because she's not here."

Balthier felt his eye twitch in annoyance. It was one thing to accuse him of autophobia, but quite another to assume things about his love life.

Vaan seemed to have read his silence as a positive reply. "I'm right, aren't-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the brunette man gave an irritated grunt and emerged from behind his newspaper to grab the boy by the vest and pull him towards him. Vaan was about to protest loudly when he suddenly felt warm lips pressed roughly against his own. Understandably, all thought fled his head, leaving an empty space behind.

Balthier pulled back after a moment and was pleased to discover that Vaan had been rendered speechless. Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was much cheaper than buying him food and worked ten times better. He was blissfully undisturbed in the following fifteen minutes, until he'd skimmed through all the important sections and finally shut the newspaper. When he glanced up, he was surprised to see that Vaan was still sitting there, staring at him.

A few more moments passed before the blonde eventually spoke.

"That coffee tastes great," he said brightly.


	10. 75 Shade

**75. Shade**

The sun had never been Balthier's best friend.

When he was ten, he'd gone to a beach for the first time. Prodigal son he may have been, but he'd still had a ten-year-old's flawed sense of danger and of course had paid no heed to his father's warnings about staying out in the sun too long.

As a result, he'd received his first sunburn. The scars on his back that were still visible now, twelve years later, showed just how severe the sunburn was.

Needless to say, from that day on Balthier learned his lesson and kept to the shade.


	11. 78 Where?

**78. Where?**

The first time he woke up in an unfamiliar bed, he panicked.

_Where the hell am I _was the first thought that crossed his mind, with _sure beats sleeping on the ground_ close behind.

Despite his uncertain situation, he couldn't resist snuggling further under the covers and enjoying the feel of cotton against his skin. It took several moments before he noticed that something was wrong.

_Why am I naked_ soon joined the cacophony of thoughts ricocheting through his head.

Feeling dizzy, he turned and took in the brown hair and multiple earrings of the co-occupant of the bed.

_Shit._


	12. 80 Why?

**80. Why?**

"Vaan, why're you walking like that?"

He had known the question was coming, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing.

At that moment, Balthier walked in with Fran. Vaan took the opportunity to throw the brunette a dirty look. "No reason."

Balthier sat down at the nearest table. "Whatever it is, I'm not responsible."

"I would not be so sure," Fran remarked dryly.

The issue became apparent as soon as Vaan started walking towards him. Balthier's eyes widened and he began to smirk. "Perhaps I _do_ have a hand in this, after all."

All Penelo could do was gape.


	13. 91 Birthday

**91. Birthday**

"One year older and one year wiser, as they always say," said Balthier.

"Hear, hear," Penelo responded with a wry smile, and raised her glass in a toast towards Vaan. "Though in his case, I wouldn't be so sure of it."

The group of them were seated around a wooden table in the Sandsea, and Fran had just come through the door with a large, round package tied with a neat powder-blue ribbon. The birthday boy, who was now legally no longer a boy, couldn't resist jumping up to tear open the cake box. Balthier noted with satisfaction that Vaan was proudly wearing the white shirt that he had gifted him earlier, with the sound advice that a proper sky pirate really shouldn't go around everywhere half-naked.

Vaan was searching around furiously for a cake knife when the doors to the tavern burst open, and Ashe marched in with a whole band of bodyguards behind her, Basch at their helm. They strode purposefully past the gaggles of muttering people and stopped by the only table whose occupants had not lowered their heads. "Well, look who we have here," Balthier said with some notion of delight. "Even the queen of Dalmasca herself has come to bequeath her birthday wishes. Vaan, do pay her some attention, will you?"

"Ashe!" exclaimed Vaan as he snapped his head around to grin widely at the smiling queen. "It's been way too long." He strode towards her and enveloped her in a hug, much to the dismay of the soldiers behind her. Hands were placed on sword handles, and the taverngoers warily prepared themselves for flight in case a royal swordfight broke out.

"Be at ease, men," Basch was heard to say quietly. "Her Majesty could defend herself against _him_ with her eyes closed."

Penelo and Balthier winced, and Fran shook her head.

Placated, the soldiers relaxed and the commoners began to build up the usual tavern hub-bub once more.

"I believe this marks your 18th year?" asked Ashe as she sat down gracefully on the seat offered.

Vaan nodded like an eager puppy. "Now I'm a legal adult," he said proudly.

"You'll never grow up," laughed Penelo from beside him.

"I will too!" he protested, punching her on the arm.

"No, you won't!" Kick.

"Will too!" Pinch.

"Will not!" Smack.

"Ouch!"

"Some things never change," Basch remarked off-handedly, and Ashe sighed in agreement.

Amidst their heated debate, Fran nudged the cake box aside and pulled out a long, sharp knife from underneath it. "The cake awaits cutting," she said simply, and the two teenagers shut up as they followed the viera's arm movements nervously with their eyes.

She handed the cake knife to Vaan, who, after blowing out the candles in one huff, immediately proceeded to tear out large chunks of the cake as if he was wielding a blunt saw. The cake - initially decorated delicately with caramelized and fresh fruit, chocolate piping and an intricate web of cream - was then distributed as mushed-up lumps to the party guests. "The rest goes to Kytes and the other kids," the budding sky pirate announced piously as he ate, but nobody was really surprised when he ended up helping himself to seconds and thirds, leaving nothing for Kytes but crumbs.

On the way home, Penelo pestered Vaan to tell her what he had wished for.

"It's not going to come true if I tell you, is it?" he said matter-of-factly.

She pouted. "I can guess. It's probably something to do with airships."

"I'm not going to say anything, you know." Vaan grinned at her and darted ahead through the crowd of people.

"Well, sky pirates then!" she yelled as put her hands on her hips in frustration.

In truth, Vaan always wished for the same thing every year. _But, _Penelo mused as she followed him as fast as the crowd would allow, _with Balthier's guidance, this time it might just come true for him._


	14. 57 Lunch

**57. Lunch**

The next time they had a meal together, it was Vaan who treated Balthier. The street urchin had casually popped up in the sky pirate's doorway and leaned against it, dangling a small bag of coins from his hands and asking if there was anywhere Balthier wanted to go to eat.

"Where did you get that bag of gil?" Balthier had asked suspiciously, putting down the belt pouch he was restocking.

Vaan flashed a mischievous grin. "Remember when I bumped into that guard a while ago, on our way back?"

The pirate sighed. "You're hardly at a loss for money now, Vaan. Or did you enjoy your trip to the prison so much you want to go back?"

"Relax," said Vaan. "He didn't notice a thing."

"For some reason, I don't feel assured." Balthier grimaced. "But let's not dawdle on such trifle matters. Why don't we decide after we look around? I'm not too familiar with the city of Bhujerba."

"Neither. Sounds like a plan. Come on, let's go!" And with a final swish of the money pouch, the urchin was out the door, his heavy boots thumping on the wooden stairs.

Balthier watched him go and then looked at the supplies on his table. Ideally he had wanted to sort out their loot from today and amply prepare himself for tomorrow's hunt - but there was no denying Vaan, not when he was in an insistent mood like this. With a sigh, he followed.

As they walked down the street, Balthier couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu as Vaan dawdled at every stall and greeted various shopkeepers. How did he even know them? They had barely been in the city a week.

The two walked around a corner and straight into the suspicious gaze of a trio of guards. The one on the right looked at them funnily for a moment, and Balthier watched with a sense of impending doom as the man's beady eyes lit up. "_Hey! _It's 'im! The brat that took me money pouch!"

"So what was it you were saying about him not noticing a thing?" remarked Balthier as Vaan gave a little yelp. The guards advanced menacingly, arms outstretched to grab hold of him.

"Never mind that – _run!_" Vaan yelled, grabbing hold of Balthier's arm and pushing his way past their pursuers. One of the guards, surprised, lost his balance and a long string of curses followed them as the others chased after them.

"Hey! Mind the shirt!" the sky pirate said, but it was too late – the street urchin had already started tugging on it. In order to preserve his garments from further damage, he had no choice but to run. And so, he ran. "This is ridiculous," he muttered. "I'm not even involved in this! Why must I escape like some petty thief?"

Vaan must have heard him, because he turned mid-step to grin at Balthier again. "Like it or not, you're an accomplice now," he said. "You agreed to lunch, remember?"

"I didn't realize that would make me some kind of criminal," snarled Balthier, but kept running anyway.

They weaved through the crowd, thankful for the guards' heavy armor. Within a few minutes they could no longer hear the shouting and clanking of their pursuers. Balthier looked around, and pulled Vaan through a nearby door.

"Welcome!" said a pleasant-looking young man. "Please, let me take you to your seats."

The two young men glanced at each other, still sweating and puffing from their sprint. Vaan's head cocked to the side. "You want to have lunch _here?_"

Balthier swept his arm at their lavish surroundings. "This is one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. I've heard very good things about it, if you must know." He followed the waiter to their table in the corner.

"Yeah, I can tell," said Vaan. "And do you honestly think we can afford to eat here? I took a money pouch, not a sack of gold!"

Balthier raised an eyebrow as he sat down and scanned the menu. "Ah, but you don't expect me to believe that you simply elbowed past the other guards back there, do you?"

The blonde stared at him for a moment before breaking out into a huge smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the three pouches of gil. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's eat!"


	15. 12 Orange

**12. Orange**

Lowtown was a world of perpetual shade; where the only light came not from the sun, but the scattering of magic-lit torches along the walls. It was also the place where Vaan, among many other orphans, grew up. The boy navigated the place like a rat through a well-run maze and Balthier, who was not nearly so efficient, was currently finding himself struggling to keep up.

They were here to see old Dalan, of course. Balthier ran a finger over the crystal miniature in his pocket that was the reason for their visit. Vaan had found it whilst riding a chocobo, the bird having been attracted by the shiny object in the ground. It and Vaan had then fought tooth and nail to see who would get to keep it. Needless to say, Gurdy hadn't been pleased when Vaan triumphantly towed back an exhausted and bedraggled chocobo, and Penelo had scolded him for hours when she saw the scratches on his arm and heard the ridiculous story.

So Vaan decided to drag along the only other person who might _vaguely_ be interested in finding out what the crystal was. He'd ambushed Balthier early in the morning the next day, too early for the sky pirate to be able to think of a valid excuse to decline. Fran hadn't been very co-operative either. Vaan offered the generous bribe that if the miniature was in any way valuable, Balthier could have it. Balthier himself had run a critical eye over the item in question and concluded that it was worth squat, but the enthusiastic gleam in Vaan's eyes eventually won him over anyway.

_It's a dangerous thing, being won over by the gleam in someone's eye,_ he thought as he rounded yet another corner. Especially when that _someone_ was a young male street urchin. Balthier didn't discriminate, but a fraction of his mind found the background difference a little unsettling. On the other hand the rest of him didn't really care. His fondness for Vaan wasn't influenced in any way by the boy's lack of wealth or what was in his pants.

He noticed absently that people ogled him from all corners as he passed. He wasn't even wearing his vest, which was the only item of clothing he considered truly worthy of ogling, but that didn't stop them in the least. Well, it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy the attention, but that wasn't his purpose. He looked around again, saw the flash of metal rounding a corner, and followed with a resigned sigh.

A few moments later he spotted Vaan leaning against a pillar up ahead. Balthier went up and grabbed his vest, ignoring the blonde's yelp of surprise, and ruffled his hair roughly in annoyance. "You're to _guide_ me, Vaan, not lead a game of cat and mouse."

"I did my job! You're here now, aren't you?" Vaan said, clutching his head with a tear in his eye. "And that _hurt_."

Balthier ignored him and took in his surroundings. They were in the right place, at least. He pushed open Dalan's door, and Vaan, who was muttering darkly, shut it behind him.

"Psst. Give me the crystal," the blonde muttered as he rejoined Balthier's side. "It's mine."

The sky pirate almost chuckled at the words. Hadn't he said the very same thing when they'd first met? In order to avoid a scuffle breaking out between them, he handed over the miniature to Vaan, who grinned in thanks and dashed like a hare to Dalan's side. The old man had been watching them since they'd come in, and now he caught Balthier's eye. Both men suppressed their urge to grin.

"Hey, Dalan, look what I found!" Vaan announced by way of greeting. He sat the crystal in his palm and brought his hand close to Dalan's face. "What is it? Is it worth lots? It looks like it is."

Dalan looked surprised despite himself. "Where did you find this?" he asked curiously.

"In the Nalbina sand, just beside Mosphoran Highwaste," said Vaan, spurred on by the man's reaction. "Come onnn, tell me what it is!"

"It's nothing valuable," Dalan said, and the boy drooped visibly.

Balthier, who hadn't been listening to the conversation, started when he heard Vaan's outcry a moment later. "_10 gil?_"

"10 gil what?" asked the brunette, striding towards them.

Dalan looked up at his presence. "I was just informing Vaan here of the crystal's market value."

Balthier snorted, an oddly elegant sound. "I supposed as much."

"You mean I bore these scratches and bruises, all for something only worth 10 gil?" Vaan yelled.

"There are other uses for it," the old man said, motioning for him to keep his voice down. "Like over there."

The two young men looked over to where he pointed. The fiery orange torch that illuminated the room was the only thing in their direct path of vision.

"They are fragments of sunstones," explained Dalan. "One might call them raystones. There is an abundance of them in Lowtown; we put them in the torches to make the flame brighter."

Balthier looked at Vaan and was amused to see the boy clearly struggling with the new information. His brow, furrowed in disappointment and frustration, slowly relaxed as he continued gazing at the dancing flames. He walked over to it with a determined expression, and, to Balthier's surprise, dropped the raystone into the torch.

For a moment nothing happened - then, with a gentle 'woosh', the flame grew in height and width, its tip now licking at the ceiling. Old Dalan's house, previously only dimly lit, was filled with a warm orange glow. The other inhabitants gasped appreciatively and crowded around the brightened torch, jabbering amongst themselves.

"Thank you for that, Vaan," said Dalan, his eyes crinkling into a smile. "I was almost certain you were going to go and sell that raystone anyway, despite its worth."

Vaan scratched his head in embarrassment; he was clearly unused to gratitude. "It's no problem, Dalan. 10 gil wouldn't have bought me much."

He turned around to grin like a puppy at Balthier. The sky pirate relented, smiled and ruffled his hair. "Well done, for realizing that it's hardly worth going down to the market for a sale of such meagre value. And this place could really have used another raystone."

Glowing with the praise, the street urchin pranced to the doorway. "I'll be back, Dalan! Next time I swear I'll find _real_ treasure. Something worth hundreds- no, _thousands _of gil!" The old man chuckled and waved him away, glancing admiringly at the torch as he did so.

"Oh, the raystone was treasure enough," said Balthier as they left, shutting the door behind him.

Vaan gave him a funny look. "10 gil? I thought your standards were higher than that."

Balthier laughed. "Didn't you see the looks on the people's faces when you brightened the torch? There were smiles all around. Old Dalan may say that raystones are abundant here, but he's not one to use such things for himself. Treasure doesn't necessarily need to have monetary value, Vaan."

The boy stopped walking, and gave a slow nod. "You know, when you said to me, 'well done' - well, I felt it was all worth it. The scuffle with the chocobo and all." He pointed at the bruises on his arm for effect, and winced slightly as he looked up at Balthier with a questioning glimmer in his eyes. "Does that mean that it was treasure? To me?"

_It's a dangerous thing, being won over by the gleam in someone's eye, _Balthier thought to himself again. He said nothing, but only ruffled Vaan's hair again.

Perhaps, being won over by such a thing wasn't so bad.


	16. 53 Earth

**53. Earth**

"_Focus!_" came Fran's voice from somewhere behind him a split second before her foot connected with his bare shoulder.

Not for the first time that day, Balthier tasted dirt on his lips as he picked himself up shakily, holding the heavy spear in front of his face once again.

"It certainly is about time you improved upon your skill with spears and lances," the viera said conversationally as he finally got to his feet. "Pity you only realized after losing that humiliating bout with Vaan."

Balthier's ears reddened. "Less talking, more sparring," he said irritably.

Fran simply smirked in response.


	17. 63 Summer

**63. Summer**

Balthier always had an inkling as to when summer was approaching. No, he was not one to read the weather forecast religiously - in fact, he did not usually pay much attention to such things, as the sky tended to tell him as much simply with its colors and geometry. And Fran, being a viera, had a keen sense of smell and could always tell when a particularly heavy storm was about to strike.

Therefore for him there was no need for such magicks. _His_ inkling was much more pragmatic.

It would typically start near the end of the fourteenth month of the calendar. His leather pants, which had kept him warm throughout winter and by mid-spring had felt like a second skin to him, would become distinctly more noticeable to himself. Running around the desert would no longer be simply exercise, but an exercise in self-control as he fought to keep his mind off his damned pants and on the monster that was currently overwhelming Fran in front of him.

By the time the fifteenth month rolled around, he would begin to have trouble taking off said pants when he got back to the airship. Fran never mentioned the topic, but would always shoot him sympathetic glances that said '_perhaps it was unwise of you to eat dessert so frequently as of late_'. Balthier could only grit his teeth in response and tug harder.

Within a few weeks, he would hardly deign to leave the _Strahl_ at all. Which was just as well, because more often than not he would be wearing shorts and that was hardly the kind of image he wanted to project to the public. With his leading-man pants he was Balthier, the formidable sky pirate. Without them, he was just... a man.

But of course this was all before he'd gotten himself tangled in the business at Rabanastre. Watching Vaan run around happily under the burning desert sun with _metal plates_ atop his legs and feet made Balthier feel like a lot less of a man for complaining about his own mild discomfort. He had seen the worshipping looks that Vaan often cast at him, and shuddered to imagine what the boy would think if he ever voiced his trifle irritations aloud.

And so, he could only grin and bear it. For the sake of his reputation.


	18. 5 Outsides

**5. Outsides**

Sometimes Vaan would catch himself thinking how looks really can be deceiving.

Take Penelo for instance. She always seemed like such a sweet and innocent girl, but ever since they had started travelling she had gradually become the best strategist in the party. Her confidence bloomed before his eyes, and soon she replaced Balthier as the one who burned the midnight oil to formulate battle tactics.

Then there was that time when he'd walked in on what appeared to be her clad in her underwear, whipping a genuflected Basch with a piece of flax.

Yeah, looks really can be decieving.


	19. 48 Diamond

**48. Diamond**

When he'd opened that pouch that Balthier had given him and discovered a diamond ring in his palm, Vaan couldn't help grinning stupidly even though he'd recognized it at once as Ashe's. He'd held it up, admiring - and trying not to drool at - the way it sparkled in the sunlight.

The Lowtown brat in him had wanted to pretend that no such pouch had ever crossed his possession. What Ashe didn't know wouldn't hurt her. But what Penelo knew would certainly hurt _him_, and hurt him she did when she'd noticed the greedy glint in his eyes. That girl knew him far too well.

It had been a few days since then, and Vaan had almost forgotten about it between how busy they had been. Penelo had decided that they should have a picnic, so that was what they were doing. He had come across the ring once again when he'd reached into his pockets to find gil to buy some bread, and now, as he lay on the grass, he brought it up to the sky a second time.

"You're going to blind yourself doing that," scolded Penelo. She snatched the ring from his fingers, ignoring his protests, and sighed. "Oh, it's so beautiful. Ashe is _so _lucky to have this ring. You know, now _I_ sort of want to keep it too."

"Well, you can't. Balthier gave it to me, not you."

His best friend pouted and slid the ring onto the fourth finger on her left hand. "I'm sure it looks far better on me, anyway." She waved it in his face, dazzling him. "See?"

Vaan snorted and grabbed her wrist, prying the ring off her finger. "Would you quit embarrassing yourself? You're not even married."

"I could be engaged," said Penelo loftily.

"Yeah right. Who would propose to _you_?" smirked Vaan, chuckling as Penelo flushed and tossed a handful of grass at him.

That evening when he was finally alone, he took out the ring and felt its fine contours with his fingers. Then, hesitantly, he slid it onto his ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

Feeling an odd surge of glee, Vaan pranced around the room with his hand held up to the lamp on the ceiling, his eyes never leaving the glow of the diamond. Then the stupidity of the situation struck him like Penelo's backhand to the face.

"What the hell am I doing?" he muttered, turning a deep shade of pink.

He took the ring off roughly and stuffed it back into his pocket, and went to bed. It was a long while before his blush subsided.


	20. 23 Lovers

**23. Lovers**

It had always made Balthier somewhat uncomfortable when people insisted on referring to him and Vaan as lovers.

In terms of love he was fairly confident that they passed the test, but in terms of sex... Balthier just couldn't bring himself to mention the topic. The problem was not how good or bad the sex was; it was the fact that they didn't have it at all. He had assured Fran a plethora of times that there was no physical reason - _god_, no. Sometimes it took all of his self-restraint just to not push the boy to the ground and take him right there and then.

The truth was that the reason was entirely psychological, and on the sky pirate's part. It was simple enough. Balthier was a grown man of twenty-two, and Vaan was only seventeen. No matter how much physical attraction he felt for the boy, the trouble was just that: Vaan was only a boy. Every time they kissed, Balthier would thirst for more; but as soon as his hands got under Vaan's vest the words "CHILD MOLESTER" would flash in big red letters across his mind's eye.

The irony had not escaped him, of course. A sky pirate was only a fancy name for a criminal, after all, so why should he care about the law any more than he ever had? And yet... perhaps it was a spark of the Judge remaining in him, but he just couldn't do it.

Not that Vaan hadn't made efforts to get him over that, to his immense amusement. At first the blond had tried to seduce Balthier the best he knew how; when that didn't work, he had sulked for days, pointedly ignoring Balthier in the meantime. Later, Vaan adopted a stealthier approach and began challenging the sky pirate to drinking contests out of the blue. It was an idea that sounded good in theory, but the sad reality was that either Vaan would pass out first or Balthier would be too drunk to move, let alone get it up.

Hence, on the night before their final encounter with the _Bahamut_, Balthier simply kissed Vaan goodnight, and left the desert flower untainted. The boy had clung on to him, as if instinctively knowing that something was going to happen, but he had fed him gentle words of reassurance and Vaan had eventually drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

It was a decision that came back to haunt him. He'd had an inkling that he and Fran would part ways with the others for some time if their plan were to succeed, but he had no idea just _how_ long it would turn out to be.

Nevertheless, he was satisfied - for he knew that the next time he saw Vaan, the boy would be of age. And then Balthier would finally take the treasure that was so rightly his.


	21. 18 Black

**18. Black**

Black was not a happy color.

To Balthier, it represented all of his bad memories: the morose atmosphere of his mother's funeral; the shadow that he later saw hovering behind his father, just before the man went mad; the cold, hungry nights that he spent huddling in the cockpit of the _Strahl_ after he had run away from home. The brightly colored rings and bands on his fingers and wrist attested to that, too. He had been given funny looks by more than one passerby, but wearing them kept his mind off his past.

Which was why he found it amusingly ironic that when he'd eventually found a partner-in-crime, she was clad in... black armor.

Of course, it was a very nice set of armor, and the design was undeniably impeccable. Balthier had never been one to walk behind a woman, but after he met Fran, that quickly changed. Nobody sashayed quite like a female viera, and Fran was a fine specimen if he ever saw one.

It was just that... well, he had seen plenty of viera frolicking around in his time. They had all been quite happy to do so clad in silver, or rose-gold, or white - so why did Fran pick _black_, of all shades?

Balthier had not-so-subtly hinted at his distaste for the color more than once. He'd called it drab, depressing, not fit for the partner of a leading man. He paid coin to fortune tellers and beggars to shout out at Fran that she was wearing death's shade, though more often than not his coin would be wasted for she would silence them quite easily with a single withering glare. He bought her new clothes for her birthday every year, each outfit more expensive than the last, in hopes that she would finally realize that he did not enjoy her fashion sense.

Each attempt had ended in failure, and six years on the latest custom-made set of armor that Fran had bought was _still_ the same color as it always was.

He just couldn't win against the color black.


	22. 84 He

**84. He**

"What type of underwear does he wear?" asked Vaan one day.

Fran, who had been nursing her tea in blissful peace, felt her ear twitch. "Do specify who you mean."

The teenager tutted impatiently. "Oh, _you know_."

"No, I do not _know_ who it is you speak of."

"Your partner-in-crime, of course!" Vaan said exasperatedly. "I bet he wears briefs. Penelo's wagering boxers, but I don't think Balthier's a boxers kinda guy."

The viera gave him an amused smile. "Neither."

Vaan stared at her. "You mean he-?"

"I shall divulge only that," said Fran, and went back to her tea.


	23. 15 Blue

**15. Blue**

The sky really was quite a delightful thing, Balthier had always thought. Even before he had stolen the _Strahl_ and run away from home, he had often looked up to it, reveling momentarily in the limitless blue expanse that always seemed just out of arm's reach.

Knowing that there was always a way out - that is, up - had made the fact that he'd spent most of his childhood training and studying slightly more bearable. His firearms teacher had always told him that there were high expectations for the son of an esteemed scientist such as Cid, and the talent that was so clear to him (but considerably less obvious to Balthier himself) would not be allowed to go to waste.

"You possess great poise and calm," he would say. "Traits befitting a future judge. And a gun would be far more elegant a weapon for you than a blade or spear." Of course, the latter sentiment was never expressed without a sniff of disdain.

It didn't really matter to Balthier either way. Despite only being ten years old at the time, he knew full well what being a judge would entail, and he wasn't sure he liked the sound of it. On the other hand, spending countless hours with his father during his research had meant that being a scientist was also out of the picture if he didn't want to die from boredom. Well, that was if he didn't die from the noxious fumes and suspicious-looking magical items first.

And so he chose what seemed to be the easier path: become an Archadian Judge, as everyone expected of him. It would be a decision he would come to regret. His peers grew jealous and bitter, while his new colleagues had no respect for a mere boy among their ranks, and did not hesitate to make sure he was aware of it. The few moments of joy he experienced when he wrought justice were far overshadowed by the misery he experienced every day.

Then there was his own father, who was spending more and more of his time murmuring to the dark figure that constantly hovered behind him. The practice of summoning Occuria was strictly forbidden but Balthier, who was by then just sixteen, simply did not know what to do. How could he report his own _father_ to the authorities? He was also quite aware that Cid was still a respected scientist, whose word would surely be trusted over his teenage son's, should he wish to defend himself.

It was really all too much for a teenage boy in the peak of the raging emotions of puberty. Therefore, it was really no surprise that one night he finally went and did what he had been telling himself he'd do for so long - take the airship he had once trained in, and take to the skies. At first he had been a mess, struggling to recall his instructor's words as he fumbled with the controls, but soon the adrenaline rush died down and he had been able to escape just as the clamor he was making finally roused the guards.

There were many memorable things about that evening, but the feeling of finally being _free_ was one that Balthier was sure he would never forget. That night, he had flown as far as he could, hungering for more of the euphoria he was experiencing. In the seven years since then, he had never come across any magick or potion that had come close to giving him the same high; he eventually admitted, with some reluctance, that he was probably quite addicted to flying.

It was, after all, the one thing that brought him closer to the sky that he had so often reached for.


	24. 27 Parents

**27. Parents**

Not for the first time, Vaan wasn't doing his job.

It had been an exceedingly simple errand, Balthier thought as he leaned against a pillar and watched the blond boy indulging in a game of tag with some of the other Lowtown children. All he'd asked was for Vaan to go fetch a few potions for their hunt the next day.

The irony was that they were playing almost right in front of the stall.

Balthier was just about to march up and tell his apprentice off when a small shape cut sharply across his path and made him stagger.

"You're it, Vaan!" screeched the figure, giggling madly. When she finally stopped moving, Balthier realized that it was a young girl, about half Vaan's age.

"No fair, Filo!" Vaan complained in a nasal whine. "You got Kytes to trip me up!"

"Nobody said we couldn't play teams." Filo stuck out her tongue, and Vaan scowled in response.

Thoroughly amused by the exchange, Balthier decided to let them play a little longer. _He fits right in with those children,_ he thought, perhaps a little unkindly. Little wonder that the boy couldn't even go two streets without forgetting his objective.

And yet, just how well Vaan handled the orphans was fairly impressive. For the majority of the time he pouted and laughed along with them but in moments few and far in between, he would show endless patience at their antics, berate them when they got too cheeky, and comfort them when they were yelled at by the stallkeepers for being in the way. It was clear that the children were at complete ease in his company.

_He'd make a good father,_ the sky pirate suddenly caught himself thinking, then chuckled darkly to himself. He was hardly the expert when it came to good parenting, having received little of it himself - nevertheless, even he could see that Vaan had a way with children.

Seeing that there was no sign of Vaan leaving, Balthier sighed and headed towards the potions stall himself. The bangaa behind the counter grinned toothily at him and bellowed out a warm welcome at his approach; meanwhile, Balthier was far less enthusiastic, simply tossing a handful of gil onto the counter before grabbing a pack of hi-potions.

With the shopkeeper's thanks still ringing in his ears, the sky pirate finally decided to approached his apprentice. Vaan was now swinging a small boy around in circles while the other children watched on with apparent glee, some clearly impatient for their own turn.

Balthier stopped well outside the radius of the boy's rapidly spinning feet. "Vaan, haven't you had quite enough fun for today?"

"B-Balthier!" Vaan said as he turned his head, startled. "I was just- uh- whoops-"

And with that heavily understated exclaimation, his hand slipped and the boy flew out of his grasp, in what seemed like almost comically slow motion.

All of a sudden, several things happened at once. Vaan lunged forward uselessly, grabbing at the child's foot; all of the children ceased their giggling and stood there with mouths open in shock; and Balthier cursed under his breath and shouted "_Float!_" as fast as his mouth would allow.

A translucent gust of magick appeared beneath the boy, who landed awkwardly on top of it. One knee had sunk through the spell and had grazed the ground, but Balthier was immensely relieved to note that he was otherwise uninjured. Vaan rushed over immediately and cradled the child, running his fingers repeatedly through the boy's brown hair, occasionally casting grateful glances at Balthier. "Are you OK, Ty? I'm so sorry... it was all my fault..."

Ty simply shook his head and beamed at Vaan. "Uh-uh. That was so fun! Can we do it again?"

At this the tension in the air promptly dissipated, and the other children milled around Vaan. Balthier was horrified to hear some of them asking for a turn, "the same as what Ty got!". However, that was nothing compared to the look on Vaan's face that showed that he was seriously considering it.

"Alright, children, playtime's over," Balthier announced loudly as he walked through them. "Vaan has a lot of work to do." He grabbed the back of Vaan's vest as he spoke, dragging the blond to his feet and away from the crowd of groaning children.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry guys, I'll play with you again another day," Vaan called out as he righted himself and followed Balthier into the crowd. "Wait up, Balthier, I have to thank you! And apologize!"

Balthier snorted, pausing to look back over his shoulder. "_And_ promise me you'll never be a father."


	25. 71 Broken

**71. Broken**

"Owwowwowww," Vaan singsonged, his face scrunched up in exaggerated suffering. "Penelo, help me."

His best friend rolled her eyes. "What is it _now_?"

"I can't reach the dip for my crackers..."

"Ignore him, Penelo," said Basch gruffly. "A bit of struggling will do him good."

"I'm inclined to agree," Penelo replied with a nod, and went back to her book.

"Baaasch," the blond boy whined.

"You only twisted your ankle, Vaan. It'd be good for your muscles if you used them while you recover."

Vaan looked appalled. "'Only'? I'm in a lot of pain here! And I _know_ the doctor said it was _broken_, not just twisted."

"Vaan. Your ankle is not broken," affirmed Ashe, who had clearly been eavesdropping whilst composing the letter she'd been hunched over. "I have your records right here."

"M-my records? Well, do my records explain why my ankle hurts so much? Huh?"

"Seriously, Vaan - just suck it up, will you?" huffed Penelo impatiently. "In case you forgot already, I _actually_ broke my arm. And I'm sure everyone's already tired enough from picking up our slack without heeding your every beck and call as well."

Pouting, Vaan started to reach for the dip himself when the door opened and the sky pirate duo entered. He immediately brightened and feigned excruciating pain once again. "Baaalthierrr, could you _please_ help me?"

"What is it?" frowned the brunette, approaching his apprentice.

"The dip... can you bring it closer?" Cue a flash of Rabanastre's best puppy eyes.

Balthier sighed dramatically but moved to heed Vaan's request. He had almost gotten there when he felt a powerful arm grabbing his, stopping him in his tracks. "Wha- Fran?"

"Refrain from this," scolded Fran. "You know it does not do him good."

"Ah... of course," said Balthier, clearing his throat imperiously. "Uh- no, Vaan. Surely you can reach it on your own."

The others all looked at each other and grinned - all except Vaan, who was muttering under his breath about damned vieras ruining his plans.

"Fine, I'll get it myself," he announced a moment later. "But the next time _you_ guys want some help, don't expect me to even leave my seat!"

And to nobody's real surprise, he promptly got up and reached his target without so much as a limp or a wince of pain.


	26. 85 She

**85. She**

The sun was shining down from a cloudless sky, though its cheer could not have been further from the culmination of emotions inside Fran's mind at that very moment. The viera walked with purpose towards the airship hangars of Rabanastre and it was clear that no vendor or begging child could call loudly or sorrowfully enough for her to spare them even a glance. For there was a place she had to be, and there was no time to lose at all.

She leapt up the stairs to the _Strahl's _hangar in a series of fluid motions and within moments was inside the cockpit, turning the keys to bring the engine to life. _Mt Bur-Omisace, _Jote had said in her letter. Fortunately, it was not far away from the Wood and the people there were not dangerous, but it still made her skin prick to imagine her naive younger sister wandering about there all on her own.

_Had she not learned her lesson the first time?_ the viera thought with gritted teeth as the airship took off. _The world of humes is not for one such as her. _

And yet, there was a small part of Fran that rejoiced at Mjrn's rebellion. Fifty years ago she had done the same despite Jote's pleas, and she could not help but feel a twinge of pride. It was ironic now that she was playing Jote's role as the protective older sister determined not to let her younger sister fall into the arms of the humes, but there was one major difference - Fran had spent most of her life outside the Wood and she knew that misery and danger was not all that could await Mjrn.

Within a few hours she was at the foot of the mountain with the _Strahl_ parked as close as she dared. Any nearer and she would risk scratching the airship, and Balthier would likely sulk for days when he inevitably found out. Fran disembarked and cautiously made her way up the mountain, wishing she'd brought a cloak; the wind was bitingly cold, even for a mountain where there was perpetual snow. The idea of Mjrn wandering through such a terrain made Fran shudder. Images of her younger sister sprawled, unconscious, in the snow flashed through the viera's mind, and a low growl rose in her throat as she shook the thoughts away.

There was, however, something for which Fran was glad - few wildlife stood in her way as she ascended, much fewer than what she remembered from the last time she had come here with the others. She could only hope that Mjrn's journey had been just as uneventful. At the same time, she wondered _why_ her younger sister had chosen to make the journey at all. There were far more inviting places for a young, fresh viera than the view that greeted Fran at the summit. Of that, she was certain.

She made her way slowly through the countless number of refugees scattered all around the Kiltia temple stairs. Nu Mou acolytes drifted between the needy, handing out food, water and occasionally a prayer. Fran approached the nearest one. He looked up when he sensed her, giving her a knowing smile.

"Greetings," he said calmly. "You must be Mjrn's sister."

Fran was taken aback, but did not let herself show it. "Yes. She is here, then?"

He pointed over to a group of refugees on the other side of the temple. Fran shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted. At that moment two thin figures stood up from between the crowd, and her heart lurched when she recognized the familiar flick of Mjrn's ears. There was another viera beside her; Fran could not see her face, but she remembered that when they were here before there had been another like her. Relj, if her memory served.

She let herself relax and felt relief wash over her almost palpably. _Mjrn is safe, and not alone. In this situation there is little more I could hope for_. "Thank you," she said to the acolyte, who simply nodded and went back to his work.

Fran did not go to her sister immediately. Instead she moved closer and stood at the top of the stairs, watching Mjrn's face as she worked. Her smile was radiant and never faltered as she spoke with the refugees and passed them what they needed. How long since Fran had seen her like this? Certainly, she had still been but a child when Fran had left the Wood, but surely not even Jote could deny that their younger sister was happy here.

It took a moment for her to realize that Mjrn's companion was looking up at her. Fran resisted the ridiculous urge to hide, and instead resigned herself to finally descending the stairs to join them. As she approached she watched as the other viera spoke quietly to Mjrn, who spun around clumsily to stare defiantly at her elder sister.

"Mjrn," began Fran.

"I will not go back!"

A few people on the ground flinched at the shout, and many more heads rapidly turned towards them. Somewhere nearby a baby began to wail.

Relj put a hand on each of the sisters' shoulders. "Please. You are disturbing the refugees."

"I apologize," mumbled Mjrn, her cheeks pink with shame.

"Let us speak over there," suggested the elder sister wearily.

Reluctantly, Mjrn joined her, and they walked to the outskirts of the temple grounds in deafening silence. Fran realized that this time her sister was serious - more than she had ever been before. Again she thought of herself fifty years ago. _I am sorry, Jote,_ thought Fran with some amusement. _We are all so, so stubborn._

"Jote sent you," said Mjrn when they stopped. It was a statement, not a question, and there was an almost imperceptible note of resignation underneath the anger. "The Wood's embrace is unrelenting, is it not?"

Fran shook her head. "She acts for your safety. You are precious to us both, Mjrn, and Jote feels you would be safest where she is."

"Safe, but not happy," replied the younger viera. "And what of you, sister? Do you also think it to be true?"

There was a long pause. "You would not thrive in this world," said Fran finally.

"Would not thrive?" repeated Mjrn, her voice rising with each word. "Neither of you believe I can be trusted to take care of myself. Jote, I expected - but you, Fran, I thought you would have supported me. You must know what I am going through!"

"Was being kidnapped by the humes once not enough for you?"

Mjrn's eyes flashed. "So you say. And yet, _you_ are the one long held hostage by a hume."

"It is of my own volition that I travel with Balthier," Fran murmured.

"And it is of _my _own volition that I left the Wood." The younger viera turned on Fran, her mouth set firm. "If you take me back, I shall simply run again."

"Mjrn," Fran said again. 

"I swear it, sister!"

The two women looked at each other for what seemed an age, and the fierce determination in Mjrn's eyes did not waver.

Fran recalled her own memories from her time in the world outside. There were, inevitably, times where she had wished she were still under the protective wing of her elder sister. At first her ears had felt to bleed with the noise that was always present in every hume city she went to, and when it was terrible she had longed to throw aside her pride and run back into the arms of the Wood with her tail between her legs. It did not take her long to seek solace in the deserts, for although the sand stung her face and ears, there was a sense of peace in the monotonous landscapes.

And of course, there was Balthier. There had been many before him, but she had been amazed to discover that it did not take long at all for her to accept him as a part of her life. Now, the idea of venturing the world alone made her wrinkle her nose in distaste.

She did not want Mjrn to go through the same hardships that she had, yet she realized that she was powerless to prevent them. At the same time she wished more than anything that her younger sister would be able to experience the same joys and excitement that Fran herself had been through. Her ears were dull to the voice of the Wood, but they now picked up the sounds of new friends, new companions and new adventures.

Finally, the elder sister's face broke into a gentle smile. "We are more alike than I had thought, you and I. It is little wonder Jote is always so worried."

"Sister," said Mjrn, her eyes widening slightly.

Fran reached over and brushed a lock of hair away from Mjrn's face. "I shall not stop you if this is what you seek. This, I swear."

There was a flurry of motion, and suddenly Mjrn had closed the distance between them and was hugging Fran tightly. "Oh, thank you, thank you! I was sure you would understand!" Then abruptly, the embrace loosened and she looked up with a worried expression. "But, what of Jote? She will not be pleased at all."

"Worry not," said Fran, smirking. "Jote has prepared for this outcome, I suspect. She has been through this before."

Mjrn grimaced. "I... I will go and visit her as oft as I can. With gifts."

Fran smiled again and patted her on the head. "She would like that."

For a while longer the sky pirate stayed, urged by her young sister. She watched their work and eventually joined in. Unlike the others she did not have a natural affinity for such work and found it difficult to soothe the refugees, but the occasional grateful smiles warmed her.

When the sun began to set she bid goodbye to Mjrn and Relj and made her way back to the _Strahl_. The airship had slid down the hill from where she had originally parked it - perhaps due to a strong wind or a weather elemental - and had come to rest near a number of boulders. Fran checked the aircraft and was dismayed to find several small scratches on the right wing; they were barely visible, but would no doubt be picked up immediately by Balthier. She sighed and climbed into the cockpit. He could be dealt with tomorrow, after she went to see Jote.

As she lifted off she thought about how she should tell her elder sister about the decision to let Mjrn stay in the world of the humes. It was likely that their already poor relationship would be strained even further, but Fran would keep her promise to Mjrn. She would let Mjrn experience her own joy and sadness.

After all, that was what had shaped Fran to be the viera she was now. And she would not have traded it for anything.


	27. 3 Ends

**3. Ends**

"Your airship's name ends with an e, doesn't it?" mused Vaan out loud.

Balthier turned towards him, eyebrow raised. "No."

"Really?" the blond exclaimed, scratching his head. "But, capital-s-t-r-a-l-e. Isn't that how it's spelt?"

"It's _Strahl_, not _Strale_," said Balthier in exasperation. "Don't tell me you've been writing that on the hangar paperwork all this time?"

Vaan grinned sheepishly. "Oops."

The sky pirate shook his head. "Do you even know how to spell _my_ name?"

"Of course I do!" said Vaan, brightening immediately at the prospect of showing off his intellect.

Balthier looked only mildly reassured. "Go ahead."

"B-e-l-t-h-e-a-r. Belthear!"


	28. 65 Passing

**65. Passing**

"That's a lovely dress."

It had only been a comment made in passing, but Penelo couldn't help but analyze it all day. Had he meant that the material of the dress was lovely, never mind the person who was wearing it? Was she supposed to read between the one line he'd uttered to discern an underlying connotation? Or - Occuria-forbid - had it been a genuine compliment?

She didn't get any more clues from the knight that day. As he did every day, Basch simply kept close to Ashe, patiently enduring Vaan's antics and the sky pirates' too-loud discussions about what national treasure they were going to take as soon as everything was over. The only thing that revealed anything about his thoughts were his eyes - they were always hawk-like, watching anything and everything at once.

In truth, they were meant to be having a few days off, hence Penelo's change of clothing. And yet he was still on high alert at all times.

_Don't you ever get tired of it?_ she deigned to ask him the next day. Instead, when she got her chance all that came out of her mouth was small talk. Basch held his end of the conversation, of course, and even smiled at times, but she could tell that there was a part of him that wasn't there. She had seen enough of the world to know that this was not how a man acted towards a woman he was romantically interested in.

Penelo concluded that he must have meant nothing by that compliment.

When their little holiday was over, Penelo changed back into her usual battle outfit. She went down to breakfast that day and greeted Basch, the only other person already awake. He grunted in reply from behind his newspaper but then looked up and, after a slight pause, said: "I liked you better in the dress."

And even as she blushed furiously and hid her face behind the nearest menu, even as she was telling herself repeatedly that it was just a neutral observation by the most stoic member of their party, Penelo couldn't help but grin stupidly to herself.

He had not been admiring the fabric of her dress. Nor had his words had any sleazy undertones. For a passing comment, it had made a girl very happy.


	29. 21 Friends

**21. Friends**

Making friends was something that came easily to Vaan. He had had his share of a brutal past, but he'd soon found that the best way to forget was to smile like nothing was wrong. People flocked to him when he did that. It distracted him and helped him to push away the rage to the back of his mind.

In those moments there were many things that he stopped thinking of. The loss of his parents. The loss of Penelo's parents, who had been so kind to him. And the face of his brother on his deathbed as he fervently murmured to Vaan the events that he witnessed with his own eyes, the events that had caused him to be silenced and had cost him his life. Vaan did not understand everything that Reks told him, but there was one name that was constantly repeated: _Captain Basch_.

Information was hard to get to for a fifteen-year-old, but eventually Vaan wheedled and begged enough for Old Dalan to take pity on him and reveal that Captain Basch had been executed. A part of him had been relieved that justice had been done, but the rest of him was dissatisfied. He had wanted to take Basch's life himself and make sure that the man was sorry for murdering his brother in cold blood. He had wanted to make him taste the pain he had inflicted on others. But it was too late now - a dead man couldn't be killed, and all Vaan could do was simply mourn and live his life.

That lingering dissatisfaction, however, was ultimately what fueled him on his journey with Ashe and the sky pirates. Two years of thinking had made him want to seek the reason for Reks's sacrifice. What was so important that an innocent bystander had to be killed?

When he had first come across Basch in the Nalbina dungeons, Vaan's instinctive reaction was blind anger. He didn't expect to still harbor so much of it, but it was there, and it told him that it was finally his chance to get revenge and lay his bitterness to rest. It felt far too good just to let himself go and let the anger direct his body as it willed. He tried hard not to believe the man, he really did - but Reks's voice in his memories reminded him that he needed to find the truth. Not just for his own sake, but for his brother's, too. After all, it had been Reks who had been the true victim of the deception.

And so it was with great reluctance that Vaan took his first steps down the hard path. He decided that he would find the man who was really responsible for his brother's death. An eye for an eye, a life for a life. Maybe then he would finally be free of his rage.


	30. 55 Spirit

**55. Spirit**

Once again Vaan felt Penelo's grip on his arm. "D-did you hear that?" she whispered fearfully, her eyes big as saucers.

"All I can hear is you asking me if I can hear anything," he said, starting to get irritated. "I told you, it's probably just another Basilisk."

Normally the older girl might have scolded him for the impatience in his tone, but this time Penelo said nothing and only clung on tighter. Vaan sighed and kept walking, half-dragging her behind him. This was perhaps the fourth time that Penelo had stopped him to ask silly questions since they'd entered the Feywood not long ago. The rest of the party was well ahead of them now; he squinted through the fog and could just barely make out Fran's ears and the bright pink of Ashe's skirt.

"Come _on_, Penelo, we're going to get left behind."

"I'm telling you, I-"

Whatever Penelo had been about to protest was lost as a muffled wail reached their ears from behind them. It was not the first unearthly sound they'd heard that day, yet Vaan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he whirled around to look for the source. The fog made it impossible to see more than a dozen feet ahead, even when Vaan cursed and slashed at it with his saber.

He decided instead to take comfort in the fact that whatever made the noise was still some distance away. Penelo, on the other hand, was not nearly so optimistic. "It's a ghost!" she shrieked, deafening him. "I knew it, I told you, oh gods, it's coming for us-!"

Another wail broke through the air, this time louder. "It's close," muttered Vaan. His heart was hammering in his chest as he raised his weapon in front of him, grabbing his shield with his other hand to hold it over the blubbering girl beside him. His best friend was not afraid of many things, but wraiths and ghouls never failed to make her lose her wits and run away screaming. The rest of the party had already been swallowed by the fog and had likely not heard a thing. Vaan suspected he would have to face the creature by himself.

Sweat made his grip on the hilt of his saber loose, but just as well - he'd be clenching it otherwise, which was a mistake only beginners made. _Calm down,_ he thought. _This isn't the first time you've faced an unknown monster. Just keep your cool._ It was easier said than done, but even as Vaan repeated the command to himself he felt his muscles unknot and his heart slow. He was vaguely aware that Penelo had stopped whimpering beside him, and hoped that it meant she was ready with a healing spell.

There was silence for a long while. Then suddenly a shriek rose from all around them, almost nothing like the sound that they'd heard before. Vaan thought of what Fran had told them before, about how the fog had a tendency to bend images and sounds at its will, and felt a small grin of relief form on his lips. This was no ghost; it sounded just like the many dragons that they'd taken down before. He glanced over at Penelo and was relieved to see that she'd gotten up. There was a confused expression on her face, but she'd taken out her hammer and looked as if she was ready to fight.

When Vaan looked back, he found two bright green orbs burning in the air in front of him. The fog around them was twisted, wrong somehow, and it was only when he felt its cold breath on his face that he realized that they had completely missed their foe's approach. Penelo had not been far off with her fears. The dragon standing before them was a dark emerald, but its form seemed to flicker and shift even as they watched. But it was the eyes that were the most terrifying. They burned with a pale flame, and when Vaan stared into them he found it difficult to tear his gaze away.

It was fortunate he managed to do so in time, because as he did he saw the beast's tail whip soundlessly towards them from his right side. He leapt back, almost careening into Penelo, but she managed to roll away. "Be _careful_, Vaan!" she shouted in annoyance, having evidently forgotten her fears. "You're fighting that dragon, not me."

"Not just me," he called back as he dashed forward and slashed at the dragon's head. "Aim for its leg, I'll try to blind him!"

The blonde girl grumbled, but did as she was asked. Within moments she had flanked the beast and was swinging at its leg with fervor. Every time she missed and hit the ground, Vaan felt the ground shake beneath him and became increasingly glad that he wasn't that leg. Bossy as Penelo could be, at least she'd never cuffed him on the head with that hammer.

A roar of irritation from the dragon snapped Vaan back to attention, and he realized that it was starting to turn towards Penelo. He quickly shut his eyes and drew forth a spell from within him, shouting "_FIRA!"_ as he slashed with his saber to send the spell shooting towards the two glowing orbs. It had almost reached its target before the accursed tail snaked through the air again and flicked the magick away almost lazily. _Damn it, _he thought, starting to panic when he saw that Penelo was no longer attacking but simply trying to avoid being gutted by the beast's jaws.

"Vaan!" she yelled, diving away from another attack. "_Help me!_" Her hammer tumbled out of her fingers when she hit the ground, and Penelo screamed as a fang ripped her thigh. Red blood blossomed in patches on the ground around her and flew through the air as she awkwardly clambered away.

He could taste fear in his mouth, but Vaan ran in front of her and fended off the beast's attacks the best he could while Penelo cast a healing spell on her leg. For some reason his shield seemed to do little in helping to block attacks, and most of the time he only managed to avoid being mauled because of a last-moment reflex. His weapon never seemed to hit its target when he slashed and thrust, either; it either went unusually wide or seemed to go through flesh, only to feel like it was cutting through air. Once again he thought of Penelo's cry of ghost. Perhaps there was more truth in it than he had realized.

The head came towards him again, jaws wide and slavering. He shoved his shield towards it and felt it glance off the scales even though he could clearly see that he'd hit the beast's mouth dead-centre. Cold air surrounded his arm as teeth bit at his gauntlet, leaving large dents in it when Vaan pulled his arm away. _Something's wrong_, he realized. _It must be the mist... or maybe some kind of magick. _No wonder Penelo kept missing and hitting the ground before. Trying to land a strike was like trying to hit a mirage, with about the same efficacy.

He dared to quickly look behind him to check on Penelo. She was still healing, scrunching up her face in concentration as blood clotted and flesh knit together. _That's going to scar,_ Vaan thought stupidly, at the same moment the dragon's tail swept into him and sent him flying. He heard Penelo scream again. This time when he got up and staggered in front of her, it was all he could do to stop himself from biting his tongue from the pain in his chest and abdomen as he raised his shield and saber weakly in front of him. "C-come get some," Vaan snarled, breathing hard.

"You can't use your weapon," came his best friend's shaky voice from behind him. "I tried with my hammer, too... I thought I'd struck it at least a dozen times, but it never felt like I'd hit anything."

"Magick doesn't work either," he said, ungracefully dodging another tail whip. "It just swatted it away like a fly."

Penelo struggled to her feet. "We need to get away... _Vaan!_"

The mirage had worked its magic again, and Vaan suddenly felt his feet being swept out from under him. He landed heavily on his rear and barely managed to block as the dragon swiped at his face. A pale green aura formed around him, followed by a warmth in his chest. He realized that Penelo had cast Curaga on him, and was immediately thankful - not a second later the dreaded tail slammed down on his shield again with bone-jarring force. Arm aching, he got to his feet and retreated to Penelo's side. She had her hammer in her hand again, and her leg had stopped bleeding. Still, there was a grimace of pain on her face that even Vaan couldn't miss.

He stood there, breathing hard and feeling helpless. _If only Balthier were here... he'd smirk and jeer at me but he'd take down that stupid dragon. Or Fran, or Basch, or even Ashe. _It was somewhat pathetic that the rest of their party could probably have much less trouble with the same foe, but he and Penelo had only been street children not so long ago. Nevertheless, that excuse wasn't going to save them. Nor was it going to stop the Balthier in his mind's eye from laughing at him.

_Think,_ he told himself. _Think, think, think. Use your eyes and ears. There must be something you can do._

Vaan stared at the approaching dragon, taking in everything. He listened to its almost silent footsteps and its much louder breaths; he felt the air in front of him chill as it got closer; and most of all, he watched its ever-shifting body and the mist distorting around it. He ignored the eyes. Somehow he suddenly realized that it was only there to confuse him, much like everything else visible about the beast.

There was only one way to test his theory. For the first time he was grateful for the annoying fog around him as he shut his eyes again and summoned the arcane magic to his lips. "_Vanish!_"

Something flew along his saber, momentarily turning it invisible, and then the air parted as the spell hit the dragon square between its eyes. Within the blink of an eye the emerald beast had disappeared, along with its mirage cloak. There was a moment's pause where Vaan felt dread settle in his stomach, but when he looked at the mist again... there it was.

"Is that-?" he heard Penelo say incredulously.

With its body now invisible, the only thing that showed the beast's presence was the mist around it. This time its outline did not shift. Where the dragon's body occupied the air, the colorful mist around it condensed, showing the crisp, clear shape of a tyrant dragon that stood at almost twice Vaan's height.

Raising his saber again, Vaan shouted as he ran towards the beast as fast as his legs would allow. When he slashed into its belly, there was a satisfying crack as his blade bit through scales, and an even better ripping noise when he tore his arm away. The dragon roared in pain, staggering back. _There's no way that's a mirage,_ he thought with satisfaction as he easily blocked a headbutt. Everything was suddenly so much easier now that he could actually see the damn thing.

Penelo had taken his cue and slammed her hammer down in the vicinity of the distorted mist. Another roar arose, and judging by the shape Vaan guessed that she'd gotten its tail. He almost felt sorry for the beast for a second, but then it bit at him again and he was unduly reminded of the state of his own body. A moment later he ducked under its jaws and swung his saber in a high arc above his head. A jet of something cold hit him, becoming visible as a bright blue fluid as it touched him. The dragon croaked and gurgled as its throat gushed blood, and fell with a heavy thump on the ground.

After that it was only a matter of making sure the beast was dead. Vaan and Penelo stood at its body long after the Vanish spell wore off, looking at each other and grinning. "Do you think Basch would want us to bring back some dragon meat?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"I dunno about that, but I'll be keeping this." Vaan tossed the Leo gem he'd found on the corpse into the air, snatching it deftly as it fell. "Occuria knows I deserved it."

"A little modesty couldn't hurt," scoffed Penelo, but she looked impressed despite herself. "I can hardly believe you managed to think of that back there, though. The others won't believe it when I tell them! Who taught you that trick?"

Vaan scowled. "Nobody taught me. I thought of it myself. Is it really _that_ hard to believe?"

His best friend did not look convinced in the least, but shook her head with a smile as she healed him again. Afterwards, as they made their way through the fog together, he thought there was a glimmer of awe in Penelo's eyes when she looked at him. _She's going to treat me nicely for ages for this,_ he thought gleefully. Maybe she'd even give him her dessert tonight. If he was lucky, tomorrow too.

In which case it was probably best not to tell her that he'd merely been fueled by the desire to not be laughed at by Balthier.


	31. 50 Spade

**50. Spade**

"Pray tell me again why we're doing this," Balthier groaned as he slumped over his spade and massaged his shoulder.

Vaan, on the other hand, was still digging away cheerfully. "Oh suck it up, you big sissy," he replied with the sunniest of grins, giving the sky pirate an uncomfortable suspicion that he had just been doubly insulted.

Not far from them, Ashe lifted her head at the sound of complaining. "Are you slacking off, Balthier?" she called sharply. "The villagers hardly showed us such kindness for you to repay them like this!"

"Perhaps you have forgotten, but leading men do _not_ moonlight as farm hands," Balthier shot back.

"Then the next time a leading man wants to sleep in the middle of the Cerobi Steppe, he'll just have to find his own pile of leaves," replied Ashe in a tone that was at best only half joking.

The sky pirate understandably withered under her glare and, with a sigh that suggested the utmost of effort, picked up his spade again and resumed shovelling dirt around the sapling at his feet.

Although this was not the first time the party had been forced to exchange manual labor for a roof over their heads for the night, Balthier decided that he would never let himself get used to it. Certainly, battling monsters was also laborious, but that was a sort of physical exertion that required skill and tactics. Digging holes, on the other hand, could be done by humes and dogs and everything in between.

The others seemed to have no qualms at all about their work, however. Fran looked especially tender as she nursed her crop of saplings, while Basch was stoically digging away in his corner. Even Penelo was busy jabbing at the rock-hard soil with fervor - though he wasn't sure if that was much of a surprise, seeing as the girl had revealed herself on their journey to be much more inclined to violence than her sweet appearance and petite stature might lead an onlooker to believe.

And then, of course, there was his apprentice. Vaan looked every inch the born farmer as he shoveled the dirt around him and carted wheelbarrows full of saplings to everyone else. More than once Balthier had been bored enough to find himself absently enjoying the way the boy's tanned skin showed off the languid rippling of his muscles underneath as he worked, though each time he would be brought back to reality by a kick in the shins from Fran.

The fact that he was not permitted to enjoy himself on the job simply added to his growing list of complaints, somewhere after 'sore back', 'sore shoulders' and 'having to wear shorts'.

"Hey," came Vaan's voice, interrupting his mental grumbling. "Want another sapling?"

Balthier stopped and scowled at him. "Does it appear as if I'm making any progress through the pile you already gave me?"

"You're too slow, Balthier," said Vaan, wrinkling his nose before adding with a smirk, "We might have to leave you behind if you don't hurry up."

"You do that and the only time you'll touch the _Strahl_ again will be in your dreams," the sky pirate replied mildly.

Vaan stuck out his tongue and wheeled his goods towards Penelo instead. Balthier was about to distract himself by watching his apprentice traipse around again, but Fran shot him a warning glance and he sighed and got back to work.

Occuria-damn-it, he hated manual labor.


	32. 8 Weeks

**8. Weeks **

A week after their first meeting, Vaan finally remembered Balthier's name.

Until then he'd simply called him whatever came to his mind first. "Thief" and "hey, you" ranked at the top, while "tight-pants" also occasionally made an appearance. To the other man's credit, the only response he ever gave to those was an amused smile, though Vaan could swear that the sky pirate actually turned around a few times when referred to by his trousers.

On the other hand, Balthier learned Vaan's name within the day. The boy was their guide around the depths of Rabanastre, and was called out to often by all manners of people as they passed. That, and an early life of memorizing the names of all the important people whom he would have to report to when he inevitably became a judge, made it almost impossible for Balthier to remain ignorant. He never called him by such beyond their first meeting, however. Acknowledging a name was a sign of respect, and Vaan's antics rarely earned him any.

Therefore it came as a memorable day for both of them when Balthier's name finally passed Vaan's lips unprompted. It came out somewhat garbled because the boy was concurrently sprinting away from a huge, snarling desert wolf, but there was no mistaking it - even between the yelps of terror.

"Balthier, _do something_!"

And Balthier, who thought he was getting dangerously used to being referred to as 'tight-pants', grinned as he swiveled and shot the beast between the eyes.

"You're welcome, Vaan."


	33. 92 Christmas

**92. Christmas **

On occasion, Ashe enjoyed strolling alone around town and taking in the lives of the common people around her. Basch always protested, of course, but he could do little except follow her as inconspicuously as possible - though whether he could keep up was another matter entirely. Ashe had not spent her childhood evading her own guards for nothing.

Today was no different. She slipped out with no trouble at all, smirking as she thought of how Basch would panic when he eventually realized she was no longer in her room.

What _was_ different, however, became apparent as soon as Ashe turned onto the main street. The weather had steadily been getting colder, but the party had been so busy recently that Ashe had not even thought about her favorite holiday of the year. The commonfolk had not forgotten, though. Colorful decorations were tied around every lamppost, vendors were enticing passersby with their holiday goods, and a band of clearly drunken musicians had taken it upon themselves to play festive music around the central fountain. Intoxicated as they may be, Ashe had to admit that they held together a better tune than most bands did sober.

Before long Ashe found herself browsing the seemingly endless stalls lining the street. When she didn't immediaty suffer debilitating diarrhoea from the first meat skewer she bought and cautiously nibbled on, she became emboldened and eager to try the many local specialties that she had never been allowed as a child. Ridiculously oily yet deliciously fluffy donuts, exotic spiced fruit juice, tiny cupcakes wrapped in delicate webs of caramel, battered cockatrice wings... it was not long before Ashe was wholly convinced that all this time, the commoners had been eating better-tasting food than their princess.

She eventually made her way back to the central fountain, though not before her purse had become significantly lighter and her belly significantly more bloated. The plan now was to find a place to sit down and digest while she enjoyed the music and festivities, but a quick scan around the area yielded nothing. Warm bodies covered every patch of ground in sight. Clearly, people were as determined to enjoy themselves as she was.

Ashe was still looking when she felt a tug at her hand, which was accompanied by a shrill voice. "Miss, miss."

She looked down into the face of a young girl, no older than seven or eight. The blond hair and tanned skin made her think of Vaan, though the idea of Vaan sporting twin pigtails was not one to be entertained by anyone other than Balthier. The princess knelt down and took the girl's hand. "Hey there. Is something the matter?"

"You gotta dance if you're standing here," she explained very matter-of-factly. "Look, everyone else is."

Glancing around, Ashe was embarrassed to see that the girl was very right. She had somehow ventured into the middle of a large crowd of people all doing the same dance - all except her, of course. The people around her were too busy to make any comment, but she could see people pointing at her from the audience.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to dance," said Ashe to the girl, with a sheepish look. "I'll get out of everyone's way."

"You don't _know_?" asked the girl incredulously. Her expression suddenly became smug. "Even I can do it, and you're much older than me! Come on, I'll teach you. Just do what I do."

"But I-" began the princess, though it was already too late; the girl had taken a firm hold of her hand and was dragging her eagerly into the most crowded area.

For an afternoon, Ashe lost herself amongst the dancers and talked to, laughed with and learned from complete strangers. Politics and war flew to the back of her mind and instead, it was all she could do to keep up with everyone else as they danced merrily along to the band - especially the little girl, who turned out to be an excellent teacher. The music got better and better as the empty wine jugs beside the musicians increased; soon it seemed that the whole street was alive with the sound of clapping hands and stamping feet over cheerful violin melodies.

She could not remember the last time she had such rowdy fun, and sorely wished that she'd brought along Basch so that she could laugh at him awkwardly try to follow the intricate dance steps. Vaan and Penelo would enjoy this too; chances were that they joined in on these festivities every year, so she would not be surprised if they could show her a thing or two. Ashe could not imagine Fran dancing, but she was sure that the viera would manage to look graceful no matter how bad she was. Balthier was another story - the man had had a sheltered upbringing like herself, and she was willing to bet that folk dances were not part of the plethora of lessons he took as a child.

Before long she realized that she missed their company. This was a holiday to be spent with loved ones, and they were the closest thing she had to a family now. Despite their bumpy beginnings and unwilling co-operation, she knew that the general unspoken consensus was that they were all happy where they were now, helping her to reclaim her heritage and having an adventure along the way. And for that, she was grateful.

Ashe gently extracted her hand from the little girl's, and knelt down again to face her. "I have to go now. Thank you for teaching me how to dance."

The little girl looked at her for a moment, then sniffled. "You better go show everyone how good you are at this dance now, alright? Or else I'm going to be mad!"

A mental image of her teaching the party how to dance rose in her mind's eye, and she grinned. "Don't worry. They'll dance, whether they like it or not. The princess demands it."


	34. 64 Fall

**64. Fall**

Sometimes Penelo would ask Vaan why he fell for Balthier, and Vaan would unfailingly tell her, in an indignant voice, that he wasn't sappy enough to 'fall' for someone. He would also remind her that real life wasn't like a romance novel, because these questions would always come after she finished one.

He liked answering her questions, though, even if most of the time she came back to that one question that she loved the most. In talking with her about Balthier, he seemed to regain bits and pieces of his memories of his mentor that he had almost forgotten in the many moons since they last met.

The other day he had recalled a scene of them at the beach, with him frolicking at the waters and Balthier sitting stubbornly in the shade in his shorts. Vaan had tried to convince him countless times to come down and put his toes in the water - for a desert boy like him, the ocean was a miracle - but the other man had refused just as many times. He was afraid of being sunburnt, he'd said. Vaan remembered biting back a retort that his skin was hardly as delicate as he seemed to imagine and instead, painstakingly bringing water up in a huge conch so that they could build a sand castle together in a place where building a sand castle wasn't really viable for the person with average patience.

_His obstinacy,_ he'd told Penelo when she'd asked him.

Another time, he remembered when when he'd collapsed after racking up a high fever during a trek through the rainy Giza Plains. It was strange, because Vaan was usually the hardiest out of the entire party, but perhaps it was because he was usually so hardy that nobody realized he was getting completely and utterly soaked until it was too late. Balthier had picked him up and carried him on his back for the rest of the afternoon until they finally found somewhere dry and warm to spend the night. Only when Vaan had opened his eyes did he himself retire to bed, and the relieved smile that had been on Balthier's face was something that had stayed with Vaan, even if the context had become blurred in his mind.

_His caring, _he'd told Penelo that evening, and she had cooed loudly over his answer.

Although his memory was prone to failing unless prompted, there was a certain memory that he knew would stay in his mind forever. He never told Penelo about it - nevertheless, she had probably figured out as much. It was not difficult to read him.

He would never forget his last moments together with Balthier on the _Bahamut_ when he had been almost convinced that when he woke up, Balthier would be with everyone else, smirking at him as he always did. Somwhere in his mind Vaan had known that something was about to happen, but he had preferred to believe Balthier's coaxing and do as he was asked.

Despite that, Vaan could still clearly recall the raw, intense feeling of betrayal that he had experienced when he'd woken up the next morning and found Balthier and Fran gone. He had sworn to hate the man forever after that, but within a day he was moping like a kicked dog and fervently looking out for the _Strahl_ everywhere he went.

He was no longer moping, but Balthier was still on his mind everyday.

_I miss him_, he'd sometimes tell Penelo, even though she hadn't asked him anything at all.

And she would simply smile and say, _I know. That's because you fell for him. _


	35. 19 White

**19. White**

"Out of the way, boy!" came a booming voice from behind, causing Balthier to jump about an inch into the air and almost fall onto his backside.

Somebody snickered, and Balthier felt his face grow warm. _They are mere commoners, _he told himself._ It should not be a surprise that they have such little courtesy. _Raising his chin, he gathered himself and strode meaningfully down the market as if he knew exactly where he was going.

In truth, he _did_ know where he wanted to be. He had loitered around the area twice in the past week, each time walking circles around the market just to keep an eye on one particular stall. It sold weapons and was manned by a mean-looking bangaa. More importantly, it carried the only model of gun that Balthier had been proficient at using as a student, and he was determined to get his hands on it before somebody else did. It was not at all unlikely that his father would be sending people to look for him and the airship, and when the time came, he had to be able to protect himself the best he could.

The problem was money. He had brought along all his savings when he'd run away from home, although a little budgeting had told him that simply keeping the _Strahl_ fueled and maintained was going to eat into most of it. Trading what little of value that had been on the airship had helped somewhat, but he still did not have enough gil to buy that gun _and_ stave off starvation for long.

Balthier knew that selling off the _Strahl_ would be the easiest way to go about things, but he really didn't want to part with the airship. He had spent far too long dreaming of the skies to be so pragmatic about it now.

Sighing inwardly, he continued his way through the throng until he was close enough to the weapons merchant to have a clear view of his goods. There were no patrons, as usual; most people had no need for such weapons. Balthier glanced at where the gun always sat, not really expecting any change – and then his breath caught sharply in his throat.

It was no longer there. _Who in Occuria's name bought my gun?_

Too panicked to try to be inconspicuous anymore, Balthier hurriedly pushed through the crowd and nearly shouted into the merchant's face, "Who bought m- that Altair?"

The bangaa looked surprised for only a mere fraction of a second before a scowl fell across his face again. "None o' yer business, kid. Run along."

Balthier gathered himself and tried another approach. "Come now, my friend," he said, breaking into an easy smile. "What harm does it do to you to tell me? Absolutely none at all."

"I dunno 'bout that," said the bangaa. His mouth had begun to curl into an aesthetically unpleasing grin. "Mayhaps the customer wants their privacy."

Rolling his eyes, Balthier tossed him a handful of coins. "You don't give a fig about privacy."

"Heh. Ya got me." The merchant swept the gil into his waistpouch with an expert hand, then pointed down a side street. "A viera bought it. Mythril armor, great ass. I told 'er, 'you have a good eye, ma'am', but she gave me this look that jus' makes a bangaa wanna shrivel up. Ain't a friendly lady, that one."

"Well, it's worth a try," frowned Balthier, hoping that he sounded more confident than he was beginning to feel.

The bangaa smirked. "Don't say I didn't warn ya, kid."

The wind was picking up as Balthier made his way down the alleyway, swirling up dust and leaves around him as if he was the eye of some sort of mini-cyclone. Somebody had meticulously posted several bounty notices to the walls on either side, but even as he watched, several giggling kids drew over the faces with ink and rendered them nigh unrecognizable.

It took him a while to finally spot the viera in question, though there was no way Balthier could mistake that description. She was wearing a piece of pale armor that barely covered enough to pass for public decency, but there was an air about her that made it clear that she was not to be ogled if you didn't want your eyes poked out by those sharp claws.

Still, he couldn't help but stare. He had never seen hair like that before - thick, full and white as snow. _I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. _

As if in answer, the viera turned around and looked him dead in the eye. _Think that again, and it'll be the end of you,_ said her glare, or so Balthier fancied.

He swallowed nervously, but it was too late to pretend he was anything other than conspicuous. Putting his hand into his pocket over his bag of gil, he approached her with what he hoped was a casual saunter.

"Greetings," said Balthier when he was within earshot.

The viera looked him over suspiciously. "What is it you want?"

His eyes darted around her until he caught sight of the holster at her hip. "Um, I was hoping we could make a deal, ma'am. I rather need that gun that you've just bought, and I would be more than happy to compensate you for your troubles."

"This?" she asked, taking out the Altair and waving it in the air between them.

"Yes, quite," Balthier replied, hoping that he wasn't about to get shot.

"Do you know how to use it?"

"Well, yes," he said.

She looked him over again. "You are but a boy. Why would you need such a weapon?"

Balthier sighed. He had not been referred to so often as a child in the space of a single day since he had been one, and it was starting to grate on him. "It is the only gun I know how to use. There are people after me that I may need to shoot when the occasion arises, and I do not wish to miss."

"You are being followed?" she asked.

He hesitated. "I... borrowed an airship. And I do not plan to return it."

To his surprise, the viera smiled at that. "So you, too, seek freedom," she murmured. "Perhaps we may both benefit from this meeting. I need to leave this city, and you require this gun. I will give it to you if you take me far enough away."

The offer sounded good, but something niggled at the back of Balthier's mind. "May I ask _why_ you need my help?"

Now it was the viera's turn to pause. She watched his face for a good minute before walking over to a nearby wall and ripping off one of the bounty posters. Wordlessly, she handed it to him and waited for his response.

Balthier looked at the piece of paper in his hand and realized that he had seen it before - except back then, some kid had been drawing bloodshot saucer-sized eyes and a fat hare lip onto her likeness. "You're a wanted woman," he said, lifting his eyes.

"I will not murder you, if that is what you fear," she added.

He chuckled. "It seems we are both fugitives. In that case, I see no reason not to help you." Balthier extended a hand. "It's a deal."

The viera's hand was warm and soft, her grip firm. "I am Fran."

"I'm Balthier." He grinned at her. "Glad to have you on board."


	36. 54 Air

**54. Air**

"So... do you think the _Strahl_ can fly with the top open?"

Five pairs of eyes turned to stare at the speaker, who put up both hands in front of himself as if for protection. "Alright, alright. I was just asking."

"_Why_ would you even want the top open?" asked Penelo, unable to stop herself from the old habit of entertaining every question her best friend ever had.

Vaan waved a hand around vaguely. "Y'know, the air in here gets a little stale sometimes, what with there being so many of us. It would be nice if we could enjoy the sunshine and a fresh breeze while we're in here."

To everyone's surprise, a chuckle emerged from the cockpit. "That's an idea I consider every summer," Balthier called out. "Unfortunately, aerodynamics is a harsh mistress. Not to mention everything you hold dear would have to be bolted down if you don't wish for them to fly out the roof."

"You speak as if from experience," commented Fran.

Balthier shrugged. "Not to worry. There was nothing I held dear in _that_ airship. Except perhaps myself... and in that regard, you can plainly see that things turned out excellently."

From behind the pair of street children, Ashe barely held back a snort of laughter.

"Vaan, why don't you just go out onto the deck?" suggested Penelo. "There's plenty of breeze out there."

"Either I've grown recently, or the railings just aren't high enough for me," said Vaan.

Penelo rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's go outside and stop distracting Balthier and Fran from their piloting. Someone needs to keep an eye out for Imperials, anyway."

"I will accompany you," said Basch suddenly, wincing slightly.

"In case either of you _do_ end up falling off," added Ashe, withdrawing her elbow with a look of satisfaction.

In somewhat awkward silence, the unusual trio made their way through the back door and out onto the deck. The sun was indeed out and shining brightly, though the wind was not so much a breeze as an aerial riptide that had them clinging onto the railing for support.

Vaan staggered across the deck and looked down. "Occuria, how fast is Balthier going, anyway? This can't be all wind. Everything at ground level looks perfectly peaceful."

"These would be poor circumstances to encounter an enemy," agreed Basch.

From behind them, Penelo groaned. "_Why_ did you have to say that, you two? There's something approaching fast from 7 o'clock. I can't see what it is, though..."

The three of them peered in the same direction for a moment before a lengthy shriek reached their ears. "Not an Imperial," said Penelo with relief.

"A bird," suggested Vaan.

"A Charybterix," murmured Basch, turning pale. "Penelo, I hope your quiver is full. Vaan, use Telekinesis, as I demonstrated to you last week."

"Huh? But- I haven't got the hang of it yet. I can't possibly..."

Penelo pushed him aside and drew her bow. "Just do it, Vaan!"

"If I end up falling to my death, you'll be sorry," Vaan muttered under his breath.

He conjured up the memory of practising it with Basch and tried to recall the way he had moved the few times he'd managed to succeed. His body had felt light as air as he'd gone up to meet the target, and felt just as light when he found himself back on the ground a split second later.

_Just do that again. Light as air up, light as air down. _

When the Charybterix was close enough, Vaan bit his lip and went for it. One moment he was on the deck, the next he was about a meter away from the bird, hacking at it with his sword. The beast screeched in pain and clawed at him, but by then he was already back on the ground.

"Well done," called out Basch as he stabbed at the bird's wing. Several arrows flew past in rapid succession, a few reaching their target on the Charybterix's chest.

Emboldened by his success, Vaan went for a second turn. This time, however, he was not so lucky – his swing missed the bird completely and he must have taken too long to get back to the ground, because all of a sudden he found that he was stuck.

He heard Penelo gasp from below and saw her put her bow aside. Something dragged on the back of his vest and he felt himself being lifted higher into the air.

"Oh," said Basch.

"Let go of me!" yelled Vaan, flailing his sword arm around in hopes of cutting himself free.

The bird shrieked in response and only lifted him higher.

Vaan gulped as he looked down. The deck was somewhat far away now, and the ground below even further. The strong winds were not helping, either; the Charybterix was having trouble keeping up with the ship, which was bad news for when it would inevitably drop him later.

Penelo was picking up her weapon again. "Should I aim for the wings?"

Basch paused for a moment before nodding slowly. "I, too, will aim for them. With luck we will be able to bring it down to the deck."

"Don't let Penelo shoot! She'll hit me for sure!"

"Well now I'm _definitely_ going to hit you," snarled Penelo, drawing her bow. "Don't struggle so much!"

Vaan was vaguely aware of letting out a scream as he watched her loose the arrow, but even as he sighed in relief to see it sailing past his head, Basch appeared beside him and grabbed his torso with one arm while his other sunk a sword into the beast's wing.

The next thing Vaan knew, his cheek was firmly planted to the smooth wooden planks of the _Strahl_'s deck. A few feet beside him was the corpse of the Charybterix, feathers ruffling morbidly in the wind.

Basch was holding onto his arm. From the looks of the puddle of blood at his feet, the bird had gotten him with a talon as he was rescuing Vaan.

"_Cura_," Vaan croaked with gratitude.

A cloud of green light surrounded the wound, knitting together the edges and stopping the bleeding. "Thank you," smiled Basch.

For once, Penelo didn't have something to say to Vaan; instead, they exchanged wide-eyed grins and chuckled at each other's windblown hair.

By the time the trio staggered back inside, the still air of the cabin never seemed so sweet. Ashe looked slightly worried when she saw that Basch had acquired a long scratch on his arm and the teenagers were sporting hairstyles as if they'd just been electrified, but they reassured her that they were fine.

Nevertheless, the princess went with Penelo to the infirmary to bandage Basch's arm, leaving Vaan to approach the cockpit. He took the seat next to Balthier and collapsed against the older man's shoulder.

"How was your trip out to get a breeze and some sunshine? Do you still want to fly _Strahl_ with her top open?" asked Balthier, turning his head to raise an eyebrow in amusement at the state of his apprentice.

The boy laughed haggardly. "You really should have bolted me down."


End file.
